


Vulnerable (too weak to admit it)

by HydraHottie



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 11:56:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13340757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HydraHottie/pseuds/HydraHottie
Summary: If Hartley wasn't giving you 'spurned lover' vibes in S1 Ep 11, then did we even watch the same show?





	Vulnerable (too weak to admit it)

Hartley had been sitting in his little, blue, padded cell for two days when Harrison finally decides to honor him with his presence. Hartley would be offended for waiting so long if it hadn’t given him time to store up two days worth of withering looks. He feels the box that he now resides in start to move, and he hurriedly jumps to his feet, assuming a pose that he hopes looks dismissive and composed. He still fixes his eyes pointedly to the ground. When Hartley’s cage is brought to the front, he doesn’t have to look to know that it’s Wells, doesn’t even have to listen for the mechanical sound of the wheelchair. 

“Tell me, Harrison. Exactly how many national and international human rights laws does your underground gulag break?” Hartley only gets a sigh in response, and that pisses him off further. He finally turns to look at Harrison to see that he’s taken off his glasses and is now pinching the bridge of his nose. Hartley ignores the pang of shame, discomfort, something that rises up at the idea of frustrating or annoying his former hero, mentor, friend, something. 

When Harrison finally does speak, Hartley is relieved and oddly happy to hear his voice, and then mad at himself for feeling happy, and then mad at Harrison again. Being alone in a tiny blue box has given him too much time for introspection and being alone with his own thoughts.

“I figure before we can ever have another productive conversation, you’ll have to get out any anger you have at me.” Wells puts his glasses back on, rests his elbows on the arms of the wheelchair, folds his hands on his lap, and meets Hartley’s gaze with resignation. Hartley moves past the frustration at being condescended to quickly, and instead focuses on this opportunity to do exactly what Harrison wants him to. Hartley has always been good at doing that after all. 

“You could’ve killed a city. You killed huge numbers of people as it is, and the ones left alive are having to suffer with all the damage you caused, myself included. And on top of all that you have the gall to assume that just because you can’t literally walk all over people now, that that somehow makes up for it?! That some melodramatic press conference makes up for everything?! I warned you, I pleaded with you and you kicked me out! You threatened me! And…”

The volume and confidence that Hartley had been building up to during his rant comes to an abrupt end as he holds back his final accusation. It claws up his throat and sits on his tongue, but he bites it back like bile. He’s willing to be Harrisons caged pet, he’s willing to yell and rage, but he’ll be damned if he shows that level of vulnerability.

And you lead me on. 

He knows if he said what he’s thinking he would sound like a petulant child, a stupid little boy who read too much into far too little. But there were times when Harrison would give him a reassuring seemingly platonic touch that lingered longer. There were times when Harrison would lean in during their scientific conversations, and the ideas of chemistry and electricity took on new meanings in Hartley’s usually so targeted and concentrated mind. There was every single time Harrison told Hartley ‘you’re still my guy’. Hartley had gone over each interaction a million times looking for the deeper meanings one minute and dismissing them the next. It was a blessing and a curse to have an effortlessly analytical mind. 

Hartley couldn’t muse for long though because Harrison spoke, and for all his hatred of him, when Harrison spoke Hartley would have no other choice but to listen.

“And I what, Hartley?” Harrison’s tone, words, facial expression, his everything was so carefully measured and restrained as it so often was. Hartley wanted to see him completely wrecked, rumpled, thrown completely off kilter, but he still couldn’t decide in what way he wanted it to happen. 

“And you used me.” Not wrong, but hardly the whole picture. Not enough to convey the depth of Hartley’s pain, but also not conveying his vulnerability, his fragility, his childish hurt. 

And of course it isn’t as if this entire revenge scheme was entirely about an unrequited but over-encouraged crush. Hartley has had plenty of those and never set out to commit the murder of a superhero before when they went sour. This is about everything, and the aching personal aspect of what Harrison did to him is simply the fuel to an already lit match. 

“True.” Harrison gives a nod of acquiescence to accompany his words. “I truly regret that. And I can’t honestly say that if I had the opportunity to do it all over, I wouldn’t make the same choice.” Hartley scoffed at Wells’ non-apology, but at least he appreciated the honesty. Harrison continued despite Hartley’s obvious annoyance.

“I want to eventually let you out of here. Or at least use you in S.T.A.R. Labs again, but for good. But you know I can’t do that if I think you pose a threat to the Flash, or to myself.” Wells’ was interrupted by his own phone as a message appeared, and he briefly skimmed before returning his attention to Hartley.

“Eventually, someday, you and I will have to reach an accord. Until then I will try and come down periodically to talk to you so that your head doesn’t explode from being alone with your own thoughts.” Hartley had too many feelings about the subject to even begin to parcel through them right now, he’s known as a rather emotionally constipated person and the reputation wasn’t inaccurate. Either way, Hartley can’t help but snap back at Harrison.

“But for now you’re going to stick me back in your super-criminal rotation because there are more pressing matters?” Harrison heaves a heavy sigh before turning his chair around to leave. 

“For now, I’m going to continue to try and make amends.”

And so Hartley's cage was pulled back, and he was left alone with his anger, uncertainty, and anticipation. There was something oddly thrilling about the idea of Harrison Wells trying to redeem him.


End file.
